Golden Harrier
by Miss Yaoi Hands
Summary: Twelve different stories involving Quinn. From the bitter cold of the Freljord to the burning sands of Shurima... you can find love anywhere. (Various Quinn Pairings)
1. A Warmother's Heart (Ashe)

**Golden Harrier**

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_Different stories of Quinn and her lovers._

_I highly encourage anyone to use these stories as prompts for their own!_

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**— Table of Contents —**

1\. Quinn and Ashe— While her Warmother questions herself on marrying the barbarian, she confesses a secret to her scout.

2\. Quinn and Darius— The Hand of Noxus has Quinn's wings pinned.

3\. Quinn and Fiora— Tasked on convincing Fiora to join Jarvan's ranks, Quinn must resort to unfamiliar tactics.

4\. Quinn and Garen— Never seeing eye to eye, Garen and Quinn work out their differences.

5\. Quinn and Jarvan IV— Quinn finds herself alone with the Prince of Demacia, craving his approval.

6\. Quinn and Kayn— Aboard the Fractal Sheer, Ordinal Kayn has a mission for his scout.

7\. Quinn and Miss Fortune— The Corsair refuses to leave her captain's side when she's injured.

8\. Quinn and Sett— The Boss discovers he is being watched by a little bird.

9\. Quinn and Sivir— Quinn hires Sivir to escort her through Shurima's unknown lands.

10\. Quinn and Talon— The ranger and Noxian assassin try to outwit each other during a long battle.

11\. Quinn and Yasuo— Alone in a tavern, the Unforgiven sets his eye on a new woman in the area.

12\. Quinn and Zed— After arresting a group of Zed's disciples, the Master of Shadows puts Quinn in her place.

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Chapter One: The Warmother's Heart

Quinn watched as Ashe paced around her yurt she set for the night. Her's was the biggest, considering she was the Warmother. Ashe had been quiet for several minutes, her fingers picking at strands of her beautiful white hair. Her scout couldn't bear to watch any longer.

"Ashe," she started. The older woman didn't hear her as she was still walking in endless circles. Quinn got up from the elk skin mat and walked over to Ashe. She came crashing into Quinn when she intersected her route. Her pale blue eyes glanced up at her scout. "Ashe, don't tell me you're having your doubts."

"My head is telling me it's the best for our tribe but…" Ashe tore herself away from Quinn. She stood beside the fire in the middle of the yurt. The flames licked at wood, warming the area around her. Ashe sighed, "My heart is shouting something even louder."

Quinn already knew. She walked over and grabbed a fur blanket from her Warmother's bed. She brought it to her, resting it on her cold shoulders. Her hands lingered as she stood behind Ashe. She looked down at the back of her neck, her hair pulled to one side. Even in the warmth of the fire, her skin was so pale. She wanted so badly… so badly to put her lips against her icy skin. But… it wasn't what a Woad Scout was supposed to do. Quinn stepped back as she felt Ashe pull away.

"Ashe," she said again. "Adding Tryndamere's tribe to our own is just the beginning of uniting the Freljord. This is what you want!" Quinn tried her best to be encouraging but saying those words out loud hurt her. She frowned, knowing Ashe couldn't see her getting upset. She could feel a lump forming in her throat, "You have to marry him."

Ashe sat down where she was standing, putting her head in her hands. Quinn could hear her mumbling to herself. As collected as Ashe was in front of her people, the weight of the situation now had brought her down. Of course, the Avarosan were ecstatic for their leader. Tryndamere was a fearsome barbarian and his tribe would be valuable to them. It was what Avarosa herself wanted.

"I've seen it all in my dreams." The Warmother sighed, "Avarosa showed me. It happened in a beautiful fjord. The sky was clear. There was a giant feast— a feast so big I was worried we'd be short for the week. And…" Ashe turned her head, the corner of her eye seeing Quinn right behind her. "You were there right beside me." She reached out her hand, asking for her to join. The scout slowly grasped the tips of her fingers. Ashe softly pulled her down and Quinn complied. Ashe held on to her hand, "You were right beside me like you always are. My scout, this is what we need to do."

"Then why do you hurt so badly."

"I don't hurt." Ashe lied in a very delicate voice.

"I know my Warmother. When you hurt, I hurt." Quinn whispered, her grip on Ashe's hand tightening. "Please tell me why I see the pain in your eyes."

"I know marrying Tryndamere is for the good of the Avarosan." Ashe sighed, "But he is not _you_, Quinn." She looked deep into Quinn's shimmering blue eyes, seeing her shock. Quinn shook her head.

"Ashe, no." The scout frowned, "You can't. Not me."

"How can marry a man when the woman I love is right beside me?" She questioned.

"We endure." Quinn tried to smile but she felt the weight of Ashe's words on her shoulders.

She wanted so badly just to run away. Hearing those words, she knew they were true. Ashe had only shown her the most of herself. The most she had ever shown anyone. No one knew that her favorite flowers were Snow Drops because they grew in the winter. No one knew she had a deathly fear of dark water. No one knew that she still cries at night over her mother's death.

But Quinn knew.

"I'll marry Tryndamere but I'll never love him like I love you, my scout." Ashe whispered.

Quinn felt Ashe's cool hands grab her face, bringing her closer to her own. She let it happen. She let Ashe press her soft lips to her own. This is what she had always wanted but this is not how she wanted it to happen. The eve of her wedding was supposed to be joyous. She shouldn't be kissing another woman she knew she couldn't have. Yet, feeling Ashe against her skin made her forget all those things. She just wanted to be closer.

The scout pulled Ashe closer to her, sliding her into Quinn's lap. The Warmother entanged her fingers in her short red hair, their kiss becoming more wild. She could feel the sadness on Quinn's lips. The longer they embraced, the more she felt it. It was like a bitter chill on a sunny day. You didn't want it there but you couldn't ignore the presence. Ashe slowly pulled away, seeing her scout's eyes still Warmother felt tears welling up on her own. The sound of her sniffles made Quinn's eyes shoot open.

"Ashe," She shushed, "Don't cry. Don't grieve."

"I grieve for this… this love. It is going to die."

"Never!" Quinn couldn't help but smile at the ridiculousness of that thought. "My love for you will never die. Ashe, I will always love you even if I can't have you to myself." She pulled away to have Ashe look directly at her. Quinn grabbed her face when she hung her head, "I love you, Ashe. I want to see you become the bond that brings the Freljord together. Your dream is bigger than anything I can offer you."

"And I love you, Quinn." Ashe blinked, a tear rolling down her face. Quinn wiped it away with her thumb, making Ashe grin. "Promise you'll stay by my side."

"I promise, Ashe."

"You have my heart… no matter where this life takes us… you have it."

"And you have mine."

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_Notes: These are all going to be one chapter stories, all including Quinn with different Lovers. They are all separate. Like I mentioned at the beginning, I highly encourage anyone to use these short stories to inspire their own writing. If I sparked a fire, let it burn. And if something emerges from the ashes, send it my way. I'd love to see what anyone had written._

_If you like this, please let me know._

_See you next chapter!_


	2. The Axe's Hilt (Darius)

**Chapter Two: The Axe's Hilt**

_No. This can't be the end._

Quinn watched as the Hand of Noxus' axe came swinging down at her. It was all in slow motion. She saw the metal glistening under the her blood that covered the blade. Her body was screaming in pain, she knew she had to end this soon or else she was going to die. With all her might, she rolled out of the way. She heard Darius grunt as his axe sunk deep into the earth.

She turned her head and saw how close it was to her body. The blade sliced off a good chunk of her coat. The blue fabric was now stained red and covered in blood. Quinn sighed, knowing she was going to need to sew that up. Her golden eyes glared up at Darius who was still trying to pull his axe from the dirt. Almost two-hundred pounds of pure Noxian steel… How did he swing that thing around?

His dark eyes saw Quinn glaring up at him. He was too tired to do anything about it at the moment. It had been a good fifteen minutes of their little battle. He was used to ending them a lot quicker than that. One swing and his adversary was dead. But this woman gave him a challenge. She was too quick. Very bird-like. It was annoying. Yet, as sick as it sounded, he liked it.

"Got something to say?" He asked mockingly. He chuckled for a moment until blood came spewing out of his mouth. Darius gritted his teeth, feeling his own blood squeeze through.

"Not going to finish the job?" Quinn mimicked.

"Give me a moment." He answered, holding up one finger. She saw that sinister glisten in his eyes, "You'll be dead."

She could see that he was out of breath. He was exhausted. She had definitely put him through a lot. But this is what her mission entailed. Quinn was tasked with finding the location of the Hand of Noxus as he occupied the outskirts of his homeland. That and she was encouraged to use violent measures if needed. She smiled, seeing her arrows lodged deep in his armor.

Her eyes darted down, seeing that his stance had his legs very spread apart. She smirked as a plan brewed. Of course, his heavily armored frame wouldn't allow her to just kick him in the groin. That would have been too easy. The Demacian knew he could swipe her down with his giant arm if she tried to go around her. She needed to flee. Her body was going to give out soon.

If she could just disorient him… She could run for her life. Quinn then noticed that his back wasn't armored that well. He had a thick red cape and his pauldrons had spikes but nothing that could harm her. The scout knew she could jump on his back and claw his eyes. His giant muscles would definitely keep him from pulling her off. She just needed to time it just right.

Darius straightened himself out, his back popping loudly. He groaned, showing his age. Although, Quinn would admit she liked the salt and pepper look of his hair. Quinn was brought out of her thought when she noticed Darius reach for his axe again. She saw his raw power pull the weapon the dirt, disturbing the earth. He laughed darkly while glaring down at her.

_Shit._

Quinn got to her knees before Darius could raise his axe any higher. She tumbled through his legs, making him audibly question what happened. With all her remaining strength she leaped onto his large back, hanging onto his pauldrons. The spiked armor raked the skin on her palms but she managed to stay on. Darius dropped his axe before lifting his arms to grab her. Quinn pulled herself up by grabbing a fistful of his hair.

Just then, another thought appeared in her head. Just as before, she saw everything go in slow motion. The Demacian brought her face close to his and laid a kiss on his scarred cheek.

"Sorry, Darius, but I gotta go." Quinn smirked.

"You** filthy** little—"

Before he could say another word, Quinn leaped off his back and ran for it. She gave no care for her crossbow, that could be replaced. She whistled loudly into the sky, calling for her trusty companion. Of course, she thought she could handle Darius on her own while Valor patrolled the area. She'll never do that again. She was relieved when she felt his talons attach to her shoulders, carrying her off faster than she could run.

Quinn managed to look over her shoulder one last time. She was hoping to see Darius in the middle of a tantrum but… he had his hand over the cheek she kissed.


	3. The Duelist's Shame (Fiora)

**Chapter Three: The Duelist's Shame**

"I can't believe he is actually making me come here," Quinn whispered to herself as she was escorted through iora Laurent's estate. She was there to ask the head of the house to _consider_ joining Jarvan's ranks amongst the most powerful people Demacia had to offer. Quinn was a bit irritated— she knew what the answer was going to be. It was always the same. Yet, Jarvan insisted that she try and _convince _Fiora.

The well-dressed man in front of Quinn ignored her while he walked her through the estate. She assumed he was the help. That is what she seemed to notice. There were no guests in the mansion. It was all workers— but even they seemed annoyed about Quinn's presence. The maids of the Laurent's eyed Quinn as she tracked her dirty boots through the freshly cleaned carpets.

She would have to admit the mansion was gorgeous. Glorious paintings of Laurents hung on the ivory walls. There were displays of countless trophies and ribbons. Each glass case was accompanied by a marble bust and a portrait of what family members the awards belonged to. It was incredible. The Laurent house were known for their outstanding sword fighting.

However, as beautiful as it was, no one came to the Laurent home.

They were a _cursed_ family.

Each generation of the Laurent House had a misfortune in their life. The blood of Fiora's family was tainted. Her grandmother was a Noxus apologist and ran off to marry a Noxian peasant. Her great-grandfather had multiple failing marriages and nearly lost their fortune divorcing the last wife. Her father, while being a great sword fighter, was known to cheat. He played dirty, bribed judges, and spied on training opponents. Now being the head of the house, Fiora had to carry all that shame.

What was Fiora's curse? One nearly everyone mentioned was her inability to find love. Of course, the beautiful woman had suitors but nothing ever blossomed. Quinn had heard rumors of some men running from the estate screaming.

Quinn sometimes felt bad… until she remembered she was a Laurent. More snobby than the Crownguards and more hostile than the Vaynes, the Laurents were just downright unpleasant. Most of the time, Quinn disliked these purebred nobles but Lux kept her from thinking they were all the same.

"Lady Fiora, there is a guest for you. They bring a message from the prince." The servant said in front of a large door. Quinn didn't even notice they had stopped— she was so busy thinking about how badly she wanted to leave. The air in the giant mansion faintly smelled of bread.

"Tell them that he can stick his message—" Fiora slammed open the door. She stared directly at the lightly armored scout, her expression unreadable. Her blue eyes narrowed as she looked her over. She frowned, "You have a message, yes?"

"Correct," Quinn replied, still unclear what she was thinking.

"Step into my parlor," Fiora said before turning into the room she came out of.

The scout followed her inside, seeing how even more beautifully decorated it was compared to the rest of the estate. There were flowers everywhere, some not known to grow in Demacia. Fiora also had a case of her own trophies against the wall. There were a lot more than any of the cases outside. In the middle of the room was a seating area. Gorgeously upholstered couches and a tea table between them. Quinn saw there was already tea and bread there.

_So that's where that smell was coming from._

"Sit with me," Fiora said while taking a seat on one of the couches. She gestured to the one in front of her. Quinn obliged and lightly sat on the firm cushions. She could tell no one sat here often. The dualist crossed her long legs while she kept her eyes on Quinn. She cleared her throat, "So, what does the prince want now?"

"He wants you to consider joining our elite ranks." She answered.

"And have my talents be used for his silly little war games?" She scoffed, disgusted. "I'm sure he can manage with the Crownguard siblings."

"You don't need to answer him now. He just says to consider."

"I see…" Fiora's lip curled. She then noticed the hot pot of tea in front of her, "How inconsiderate of me. Would you like some tea and bread?" Her hand reached for an empty porcelain cup.

"Uh, yes, thank you." It would have been rude to reject her offer. Part of Quinn's task was to convince Fiora to join. Lux had mentioned before Quinn left to accept everything Fiora offered and to make her feel included. Easier said than done.

"It's a special blend imported from Ionia." Fiora mentioned as she poured the brown-red tea into the small cup. She handed it to Quinn before pouring one for herself. Her hand stopped over the bread, pulled back, and reached again. She seemed conflicted but she ended up grabbing a small piece. "Help yourself to the bread. It'll help me from eating it all."

Quinn took one for herself. As she looked around the table, she noticed it was just bread. There were no other foods or toppings for the bread. No butter. No jam. No honey. Just bread. It was a bit weird but Quinn ignored it.

"Now, tell me, _Miss Scout_." Fiora's cold glare landed on Quinn, "What is so special about Jarvan's little army of bloated knights?"

Quinn knew that Fiora was playing with her. She had to force herself not to make any faces. The scout took a sip of her tea as she searched for where to start. Her golden eyes scanned the room, seeing an empty case with the portrait of Fiora's late father. The uneven layers of dust made it seem like there were once trophies in the case. She heard Fiora crunch on her bread, making her look back at the duelist.

"He pays us well." She said. Fiora snorted, trying to hide her laugh with her hand.

"Do I look like I need his payments?" The older woman gestured to her grand parlor. "Why don't you tell me something about yourself instead. I know you're a part of his little army."

"Well, I'm from Uwendale—"

"That quaint little farming village near the mountains— I can tell why you love his gold." Fiora sneered as she sipped from her cup. Quinn felt a flicker or annoyance inside her.

"Actually, Fiora, I was asked to join." She challenged, "I trained for years to just get Jarvan's attention. He saw my potential with my companion, Valor, and he tasked us to track down a Noxian fugitive. We did more than that. We apprehended him."

Fiora looked back at Quinn, her brow arched up. She popped the last of her bread in her mouth before she set her cup down.

"I heard about that." Her voice wasn't soaked in that sour tone, which made Quinn tense.

"I don't fight for Jarvan because I want his gold. I fight for Demacia." She continued, "It gives me great honor to even stand beside the Elite our people look up to. I assume you, of all people, would want that honor."

"How dare—"

"Imagine, Fiora. When our people speak the name Laurent, they won't be speaking about your past scandals. _Lady Fiora cut down five Noxians at once_! You would be a great addition to our team."

Fiora sat silently, her hand gripping her knee tightly. It was a few seconds before she reached to drink from her tea again. She knocked back the remaining drink and nearly slammed it on the table. Quinn could see she was thinking about what she had said. The duelist grabbed another piece of bread and bit into it. She glanced up at the ranger, seeing her staring right back. Fiora swallowed before setting the food down.

"I shouldn't be eating that much," sighed Fiora. "I'll get fat."

Quinn smiled, seeing Fiora notice. The duelist was not fat. She had long sculpted legs and a waist an hourglass would be jealous about. Lux's words rang in the ranger's head again.

"You look fantastic. No wonder you have so many suitors." They said flatter got you nowhere but Quinn hoped that was false. She saw Fiora turn away, her long bangs hiding her expression. She suddenly shot up from her seat, her face again unreadable like before.

"You tell your prince to arrange a meeting with me tomorrow." She ordered.

_Incredible_.

"I will do that, Fiora." Quinn nodded as she stood. The two women stared at each other for a moment. Quinn noticed Fiora had a good few inches on her. It was definitely those legs. She stepped towards the older woman, offering her a handshake. The duelist glared down at her hand but eventually shook Quinn's hand. The scout smiled again, "Thank you for taking the time to talk to me."

"It was a pleasure oddly." Fiora said, "You are… welcome to come by again."

"As… _allies_?" The scout winked.

"Let's start with acquaintances."

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_Notes: Don't remember if they ever got into specifics on what Fiora's father did but cheating seems like a plausible thing._


	4. The Vanguard's Secret (Garen)

**Chapter Four: The Vanguard's Secret**

It was way too early in the morning for this. Jarvan knew he shouldn't have had this discussion with both Quinn and Garen in the room. He watched them glaring at each other, feeling the weight of their anger on his own shoulders. The prince even invited Lux, Garen's sister, to try and be a mediator. But, of course, her big brother told her to stay out of it. Jarvan's blue eyes narrowed down at the map of Golden Crossing he had in front of him. He had scribbled notes on the aged parchment, arrows and question marks nearly covering it.

Today's discussion? Tracking down a group of mages that managed to avoid capture. It was a mess of a situation. Nearly a whole block of buildings had gotten burned down before the mages made a break for Golden Crossing. Jarvan knew they would most likely be headed for inner lands of Runeterra. It would be risky to let them free. It would show other fugitives that they wouldn't be pursued and it could lead to an attack. The rogue mages could easily ally with Demacia's foes and sneak an assault on the home they once lived in.

But what was the problem?

As the Captain of the Vanguard, Garen wanted to lead his troops on the trail leading away from the inner lands. He suspected they would head towards the frozen lands of the Freljord. Which was foolish. Quinn mentioned on her travels to speak with the leaders of the Avarosan that they too had a mage problem. Magic wasn't looked greatly upon there either. Quinn suggested they look towards entering the mainlands. No one would want to subject themselves to the harsh colds when warm inner lands were a choice. Garen didn't appreciate her help.

Quinn kept her golden eyes on Garen as he scowled down at her. She could feel the rage bubbling down in herself with each second that passed. The growing silence in Prince Jarvan's study was making Luxanna and the Prince himself uncomfortable. They gazed at each other, mouthing a few questions.

"Got anything else to say?" Quinn snarled.

"I do, actually." Garen's lip curled into a condescending smirk, "Someone like _you_ doesn't deserve to be in our ranks. You have no idea what you're doing."

"Garen!" Jarvan's voice boomed yet his knight didn't flinch. Luxanna's usually sweet smile was replaced with a frown, very unlike her. The prince slammed his hands on his desk, knocking over the stacked papers. He took in a deep breath to calm himself, "I've had enough of the bickering. You two are going to bury the hatchet."

"Going to hard when the hatchet weighs nearly three hundred pounds." Quinn sneered, eyeing Garen's large frame. He glared down at her and her face mirrored his.

"Quinn…" Jarvan warned, "I won't have this kind of hostility in my ranks any longer. You two are going to settle the differences now."

"But Your Highness," Garen now tried to be whiny, that is what Quinn hated. Whenever he knew he was wrong, he would go blubbering to his prince. The Captain of the Vanguard sighed, "I'm sorry for what I said. I was out of line."

"_Disgusting_." Quinn groaned.

"Don't apologize to me, Garen. Apologize to Quinn."

Garen looked over his shoulder towards the smaller woman, who had crossed her arms over her lightly armored chest. He stood there silently protesting. The prince groaned after a few seconds. He was getting nowhere with them. He glanced over to the younger sister standing beside him, her blue eyes on her brother. She noticed him and turned her attention to Jarvan. With a simple gesture of his hand, he asked for help. The young blonde suddenly felt tense.

"Garen!" She stomped her foot, everyone in the room looking at her little outburst. Lux seemed to be glaring at her brother but her expression was shifting between fear and embarrassment. She took in a sharp inhale, "Tell her or I will!"

"That has nothing to do with _this_, Luxanna. Stay out of it," Garen warned.

"Tell me what?" Quinn narrowed her eyes, jumping between the two Crownguards.

"It's nothing."

"Is not!" The blonde argued back. She was bright red in the face, "Garen… admit it."

"Will someone say something," The exhausted prince sighed at his desk. "If i need to remind you two, there are apostates plotting something sinister. If we don't act now, Demacia is in trouble."

"Just follow my plan, your highness." Quinn said, brushing by Garen with a hard knock of her shoulder. Their armor clinked together as she stepped in front of him. "Taking the way up to the Freljord is foolish to both those mages and the Vanguard. We will freeze before we even realize they aren't there. They are moving inward."

"Moving to the inner lands isn't what they are planning." Garen growled. "Let me command my Vanguard, scout."

"You're going to kill them!" She hissed. "Do I have to remind you what I've done in Golden Crossing?" The ranger glared up at him, "I apprehended the Noxian assassin killing the nobel Mageseekers. Twice. Because when he was under your guard, he escaped."

"That was one assassin! We are talking about a group of pyro-mages!"

"Yes, one assassin you couldn't handle." She rolled up her sleeve, showing an old scar going from her wrist to her bicep. It was deep and aged, and would have been fatal if it hit anything vital. "Dealing with him. Twice. With my guidance, a few mages won't be a problem."

"You are not in any position to make demands!" Garen's voice raised, "I'm taking the Vanguard to the north!"

"You're a fool, Garen."

"I lead. You scurry around in the darkness."

"Garen!" Lux shouted again, "I'm telling her."

"No—"

"Quinn, Garen is only being so hard on you because—"

"One more word, Luxanna, and Aunt Tianna is going to deal with you."

The younger girl pressed her lips tightly together, looking between Quinn and the Prince. She hurried out of the study. Quinn tried to follow but Garen blocked her path. Jarvan stood from his chair and walked after the girl. He stopped before exiting the door.

"You two stay here." He said darkly, "And I would advise you to talk like civilized humans before I take things into my own hands."

The study was silent. The scout and knight glared at each for a few moments before Quinn tried to move around Garen. He grasped her arm in his large hand, keeping her from exiting the room. She growled, trying to pull herself from his grip.

"Let go!"

"Prince Jarvan asked us to stay here."

"You're such a squire, Garen." She rolled her golden eyes.

"And you're just a little farm girl." He retorted.

"Spoiled blue-blood!" She growled, getting on her toes.

"Bird-brained peasant!" The knight lowered himself to her eye level.

The grip Garen had on the woman's wrist was crushing, causing a stinging pain. Any tighter and he would snap her bone. She groaned, trying to push his hand away. All of a sudden, his face aligned with hers. His lips brushing past her cheek to get to her soft lips. He pulled the stunned scout into his giant frame. Their armor clinked again, snapping him to reality. Garen gasped as he let Quinn go. She jumped back, wiping her mouth.

"W-What was that?!"

"I'm… sorry, Quinn." Garen's tone was calm. "I didn't mean to—"

"To kiss me?!" She growled, still feeling him on her skin.

"No. I didn't mean to be so rude to you." He admitted, "I don't think you're just a little farm girl."

"What are getting at, Crownguard? You trying to confess something?" Quinn tried to be sarcastic.

"Actually, I am." He said softly, lowering his head.

"Please… don't." Quinn stepped back.

"I can't." Garen stepped forward, his hand reaching out for her. "Having you here in the Capital with us, had made me realize something." His gaze was soft, "You have more heart and honor than anyone I've ever met. You put others before yourself. Not to mention, you have skills no one else has. Quinn…"

"You can't. Not for someone like me." The scout backed away until she hit Jarvan's desk right behind her.

"What do you mean someone like you?" Garen followed her, making her hop over the wooden desk to make more distance.

"My blood has no value. You're a Crownguard."

"That only matters to my Aunt. I was only so hard on you because of her and what she'll think. But, now, I realize that doesn't matter." He smiled down at her.

It made sense now. Tianna held Garen to very high standards. He carried the Crownguard name on him and everything he did. He was the Captain of the Dauntless Vanguard and arguably the strongest man in Demacia. He could easily find a wife worthy of his status. He knew that, if he gave into his temptations, his Aunt would interfere. He was protecting Quinn from that heartache.

As she looked up at him, seeing his sincere blue eyes, she let out a slow breath. She wasn't angry anymore. She understood. He offered his hand out and she didn't hesitate to grab him. The knight led her around the desk to him. Like a gentleman, he bowed and kissed her hand he held so delicately. Quinn smiled before cupping his face. While he knelt down before her, she fell into his arms. She embraced Garen passionately, catching the knight a bit off guard.

They forgave each other in tiny gestures. Quinn pressed herself deeply into Garen while he had one hand in her hair and the other gently on her lower back. With little effort, he lifted her up. She giggled into the kiss, making him smile. They pulled away, seeing each other new for the first time. Garen pressed his forehead against Quinn.

"Thank you." He whispered.

"For what?"

"For leading my men to capture those apostates." Garen grinned.

"We will do it together."


End file.
